


All the Best Thieves

by Zafaria



Category: Wizard101
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-24
Updated: 2018-01-24
Packaged: 2019-03-09 01:34:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13470906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zafaria/pseuds/Zafaria
Summary: Another one-word ask prompt that floated my way after the others. It's in an appropriate collection with the rest now.





	All the Best Thieves

**All the Best Thieves**

   Brahm wanted something. A grating, pitchy little voice implanted in his mind from somewhere afar, Brahm embedded his thoughts into James’ head in piercing demands.

  Brahm was a conjurer. From a different world, he projected his vile requests into the boy’s mind. The voice would wail and scream about following this or that order, only subsiding once its will was carried out by James’ limp, puppet-like body. The curdling screams would cease as James moved his arms in sudden, taut movements, pockets filled with stolen goodies and unsuspecting bystanders assaulted.

      _I want you to steal that._ James brushed his hands along a shelf as he walked past the wooden cabinet. There were trophies, medallions, and jewels arranged precisely. He stared at the objects, but continued past, the voice in his mind growing a little pluckier. It became sharper, a stabbing pain in the soft, grey folds of his brain.  _No, no, no, no…. That! Get it! Stop, go back and take the damned thing!_

    Sometimes James cupped his hands to his ears or pushed his palms into the side of his head. He smacked the top of his skull, hoping that maybe it would knock the voice loose, it’s claws tangled in the grey matter unlatched as it fell away.

    Not that time.

     _You look like an idiot doing that._

    “Like I don’t already know that!” He rasped. He looked behind him to see if any souls had heard his hushed outburst, even though he thought that the building was abandoned upon entering. It seemed so, the doors rotted through in some parts, small rays of light poking a hole in the molded, tired wood. Unkempt vines scrambled between the brickwork. James was reaffirmed when no faces met his after his utterance.

    “By Bartleby, shut up. Fine, fine. When will you GET OUT OF MY HEAD!” James pocketed the crystal, shoving it into his blue robes as deep as he could. He perused the rest of the room, with greater disinterest and a sour lingering in his mouth. He expedited his trip to the old barn, leaving hours before he had anticipated. He planned to stay until the sun was below the horizon and the sky was a meld of red, hot like a melting steel. When he pushed open the decrepit door, the sun was still traversing through the sky.

    He waltzed over to the central atrium of the world, with cobbled streets and stone arches dotting the landscape. There were knights milling around, their iron armor glinting in the light, heavy greaves crushing gentle, mushy grass. James approached the Spiral Door, ready to escape. His forehead was damp, and he searched for his route where he could dance around the guards and keep his noisy feet of the stark stone paths.

  He tiptoed around, but nearly ran into a iron-clad sentry right before the Door.

  “Sir, halt.”

  “Uhm, is something up?” James asked, his brown getting a little clammier, a little more scrunched in fear.

  The guard eyed the trembling, nervous boy. He noticed the jagged stone sinking in James’ pocket. “I do believe you have something that isn’t yours?”

  “I… I had to take it okay?” Stuttering, James tried to justify his actions. Well, he couldn’t just outright say there was a sharp voice rapping in his skull. Nobody knew about Brahm, and it was an unusual, unheard of ability to project into another’s consciousness. Simply, it was unbelievable. Fraudulent. Divulging the mythical-sounding truth would cause a great deal more concern. 

   He looked at the guard’s sharp, darkened steel visor, unable to find his face and any solace in it.

  The guard stared at the boy, then raised his palm expectantly. It was open to the sky, waiting for the deliverance of a divine jewel that sat, heavy in James’ pocket, the air around him rank with guilt and sheepishness.

  The knight let slip one more jab at the befuddled wizard.

  “Isn’t that what all the thieves say…”


End file.
